See when you say shit like, you killed every rap bitch in the building, a real lyrical bitch get mad and gotta go in on your dumb ass. Like this, okay!
I was on the muhfuckin Youtube, Had my little nephew, tryna find 'em Blues Clues, when I seen somethin 'bout a new lil rap bitch, told 'em hold tight, I just had to click that shit. Then Im like, what my shit must got a virus. This is not a rap bitch, this is Miley Cyrus, must be something wrong cause this beat steady clashin' but she on the second verse is still not sayin' shit. Then Iím like oh! My shit actin' right, its just this bitch simply not rappin' right. You see I was laying low yaíll Ė I was on my trap shit. Puttin' it off, Iíll get back to the rap shit, Ima let it, simma' the hit 'em with the fire. But I ain't know the need with this muhfuckin dire I ain't know yaíll was listenin' to these fakin ass birds and shit, I ain't know they was makin' up words and shit.
But itís cool, we loadinn up the black trucks, we ridin out, first stop gon be, that slut, fuck five stars, tell em Keys is a galaxy, the Rap game hungry, tell em that Iím calories, Iím sneezin at these bitches, fake chickens is an allergy. I donít get gifts, niggas put me on a salary, now who's gone pop off, go hard, not soft, Ill used your last mixtape to wipe my niece snot off. I am an infection. How you gone stop it, Iím all up in your blood stream, no antibiotics, they like Keys drop it, Iím like no, pop shit. Swagger is galactic. Imma need a rocket. Bitches wan respond, then I think they shouldnít, leave they brains more gelatinous than banana puddin', but see, I ainít gonna talk about it, cops gon draw some chalk around it, these birds ainít about shit, they just Skuawk about it. If you wanna try me, you know where to find me. I be in my den eating bitches where the lions be, I saw the come up, bitch I never felt ya! Your the Harajuka Barbie and I'm gonna melt cha! She sounds stupid, who the fuck talks like that? You not hard, you get killed round theses parts like that. Fuck tryin to get shine off ya name. Iím a muhfuckin bully, I ainít worried about the fame. I donít see another rap bitch around to pick on. You say your plastic Ė perfect shit to shit on. Iím speakin' for the hood they say you whack. Iím sorry, Iím a grown ass woman what I need with a Barbie? When I did play with toys it was Nines and Glocks. There was no Polly in my pocket, I was totin' them rocks. When the boys tried play, I was like no you dumb, I was chasin' big shit they money was too young. If you think about poppin, I will smash you stop! Your bars is inexistent like the gats you got. And this shit sound faker than that ass you got! Iím Keys. What good is that gettin' latches locked. When you thought that you killed every bitch in the spot, Keys was in the parkin' lot loadin' the glock. When you came out the door finished gluin' your weave in, Keys ran up on that ass bitch you ainít leaving!
[ From: http://www.elyrics.net]
Like this has gotten so ridiculous, these bitches are so wack, that real lyrical bitches is coming for you bitches. I just made more sense then she did in like all of her mixetapes, ah ha, ha, ha, ha,! Fuck is wrong with these bitches. Keys, body more bitch! We in here. Fuck is wrong with you!